Valuable Manuscript Unearthed

As I was perusing the writings of Dahl this morning, I discovered a historic document folded within its pages. It appeared to be a textual explication of one of the great one's poems, coauthored by four critics in serial fashion on a sheet of notebook paper. Because of its uniqueness and enlightening content, I considered publishing it on the blog, but I thought it might be more meaningful to you if you read the poem first. In deference to copyright laws, I will not print the poem here, but I will give you a week to purchase or check out Roald Dahl's "The Lion" (from Dirty Beasts), after which I will post the never-before-published explication for your exclusive viewing. It appears no one (except nerzhin) is reading anything worth mentioning these days, so I trust you can find time to skim this classic, pungent 18-liner. Look forward to Monday, June 7 for the unveiling of the manuscript!

More reading

I've just started Life of Pi by Yann Martel, which so far I'm finding very enjoyable, very fun to read, but I suppose it remains to be seen if it has staying power. I most recently finished Wole Soyinka's Brother Jero plays, which were short and funny but not nearly as good as Death and the King's Horseman which I read for an African Lit class and which made me want to read more of Soyinka.

Other than that I've been slogging through Boyce and DiPrima's Elementary Differential Equations. Though this is a classic text, and one that I'm more interested in than 99 percent of the population, I still must admit that it is somewhat less entertaining than the average novel.

What I'm reading

Lemony had the brilliant idea of showing what each of us is reading over in the sidebar. Unfortunately I haven't figured out how to make this updateable by each of us, but in the meantime maybe we could each just post it normally.

Right now I'm rereading Ulysses, not with much hope of ever finishing, but it's a blast. I think the book is so intimidating we don't realize how funny it is. Reading that has made me sort of revisit A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man, which is not very funny and much less enjoyable. Books I have recently started and failed to finish are Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee and Zorba the Greek. Also, this morning I reread Roald Dahl's The Giraffe, the Pelly, and Me, which I highly recommend. It is a jewel. RD said short illustrated books for children were the hardest genre of all to write. He wrote 314 pages of discarded versions before coming up with the final 34.5 typewritten pages. So those exquisite surprises that keep the corners of your mouth quivering and your ribs throbbing in pain throughout the story were hard-won by the author. Make sure you read this with someone by your side. There are few worse things than reading The Giraffe, the Pelly, and Me and having no one to share it with.

Malls

Last weekend I was taken to the Frisco Mall, a building of staggering size that you can see from miles away. Driving in under the shadow of the vast logo-decorated wall, I felt the stomach-turning sense of insignificance that often attacks me as a consumer.

Everything was bright, shiny, and new, not the woebegone mallscape that has been lamented in recent press coverage. It made me think of other architectural forms that are meant to belittle the occupants: cathedrals, for example.

Does a gigantic mall serve a similar purpose? To iron out our inconsistencies and make us one body? Do we like that feeling?

Here is another article about malls, and also about pedestrian issues, that I found interesting. Neither of these articles is particularly relevant to my cathedral comparison, but I offer them to anyone who feels intrigued by the topic.

Walking man

As an advocate of walking rather than driving (influenced, of course, by the mighty Tree of Valinor) I found this article on alternet to be very refreshing and interesting. I like especially the closing thought, that the way to persuade people to walk is not through guilt trips about the environment but by simply showing them how fun and rewarding it can be.

On March 18, Tree wrote in this space (see the archives) about a research project involving how far people are from their cars at any given time. I wonder if, for some of us, the further we are from a car the happier we are.

I have almost resolved not to own a car when I move to Boulder in August. Can I stick to my morals, or will I be sucked into the convenience and Americanism of the internal combustion engine?

It was a review of The War for Righteousness, so unfortunately, finding the evidence would involve reading the book. Which I probably won't ever do. It just seemed interesting. You're probably right, it's a bunch of baloney.

I wouldn't rank this one in my top ten birthdays, but some sobriety is appropriate, since anyone who's 27 has outlived the poet Keats.

Christian books

For those of you who have connections in the Christian book publishing industry, I thought you might enjoy this proposed book title that I stole from Real Live Preacher:

What Would Jabez Do If He Was Left Behind With Someone Whose Only Purpose in Life Was to Force-Feed Him Chicken Soup?

Hope you enjoy.

war talk

There's a book review in the May Atlantic Monthly, talking about how those intellectuals and religious leaders who sold World War I as a messianic crusade, "the war to end all wars," were the liberals and the progressive Christian leaders, whereas those who opposed the war were the conservatives and fundamentalists.

And now, as everyone knows, we have W saying things like this: "Freedom is the Almighty's gift to every man and woman in this world. And as the greatest power on the face of the Earth, we have an obligation to help the spread of freedom."

I am no pacifist, but the weird apparent reversal of roles that this book review suggests makes me scratch my head.

Maybe I shouldn't muddy up the Crawdad Hole with silly war talk. I just thought this was interesting and noteworthy.

spring dragons

Thank you for the birthday sentiment, Lemony. It should be noted that Snap Dragon and I share a birthday, along with many other excellent qualities...

Who could be cooler than Lemony, though, who is part of a dragon in a parade! She exceeds the very gamut of coolness.

Yes, indeed:

Tetherow Way
Terrebonne Town
Smith Rocks rise in windy skies...

For those unfamiliar with central Oregon, Smith Rock is located outside the hamlet of Terrebonne, which isn't even registered on epodunk.com. And there's a song about it by an obscure group from Eugene, Spiritfarm, which also seems to lack a web presence.

All this to say, I'm sure there are avalanches of Boulder songs that can be heard in the bars and coffeehouses of that municipality on open mic nights.

Boulder song challenge

I think the elven one, having lived there, should know if there is a Boulder song. If not, can we commission an original ode? Does academic writing dull the ode instinct, Arwen?

If there's a song for Terrebonne, Oregon, there has to be one for Boulder. Maybe not a famous one...

Songs part two

Tree, don't forget the classic:

Going through the big D don't mean Dallas
I can't believe what the judge had to tell us
I got the jeep, she got the pallace -
Going through the big D don't mean Dallas

Now I just need to keep my ear out for songs about Boulder. For some reason I don't think there will be many.

Cities of song

It's comforting to live in a city that has songs written about it. Here are some of the facts about Dallas, according to Jimmie Dale Gilmore:

Dallas is a jewel.
Dallas is a beautiful sight.
Dallas is a jungle.
Dallas gives a beautiful light.
Dallas is a woman who will walk on you when you're down.
When you are up, [Dallas is] the kind [of woman] you want to take around.
Dallas ain't a woman to help you get your feet on the ground.
Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eye.
[Dallas is] a steel and concrete soul with a warm-hearted love disguise.
[Dallas is] a rich man who tends to believe in his own lies.

It's hard to say whether any of this is true yet, but I will report back in a year or so.

Face recognition

This weekend I went to a reception for an art show, mostly because I know one of the artists; I'm not really much of an artsy person, myself. The girl I knew only had three paintings in the show, and I took a pretty good look at those, glanced at some of the other artwork, chatted with the two people I knew who were milling around, ate a cookie, and was pretty much ready to leave, having spent a total of maybe twenty minutes there.

As I turned to go, I saw a face I suddenly recognized, someone I hadn't seen in at least wo years. I used to write her email on a fairly regular basis, and she even came to visit me on her spring break one year. What struck me about it was how I instantly recognized her, without doubt or hesitiation; it was definitely her. And even though she disappeared in the two seconds I took to collect myself and try to think of something reasonable to to say to someone I hadn't seen in years, even though I only saw her for half a second and haven't seen her since, I am certain it was really her, that she was really there.

How many faces are there in my mind, floating around, waiting for me to see them again?

notes from Arkansas

Arkansas is a new frontier for the Tree of Valinor. But the climate brought me back home to Virginia's Blue Ridge. There are countless small differences, like the presence of armadillos and loblolly pines in Arkansas. But in the Ozarks in early spring, what the skin feels and the nose smells is the atmosphere of the woods of my youth. At night it stays warm. The pretty rolling hills are blurry on a moist day. The rain creates a sweetly decaying fragrance rather than the papermill scent you get around Eugene or the sharp bitterbrush scent around Sisters.

There are big signs as you pass Hope and Hot Springs, announcing Bill Clinton's birthplace and childhood home. Texas isn't the only state with a sense of pride. Texas seems overrated in many areas, in fact. I'm not sure it lives up to all the boasting.